


Things That Go Bump(ing Into Everything)

by askboxangel



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, First time writing for this ship so please be gentle., I don't even know., I may continue this depending on what people think., I'm not sure my voices for either of them are strong enough., we'll see?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8780518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/askboxangel/pseuds/askboxangel
Summary: Regina wakes up to someone fumbling around her home at night. Rated for later chapters.





	1. Of Coatracks and Clumsiness

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! So I'm finally just gonna do it and post the thing. I'm terrified. I know this fandom is really hardcore so I'm nervous to post any SQ writing but... here I am.
> 
> So be gentle. It's my first time posting anything for this ship or fandom.
> 
> Anyway, all mistakes are mine as I have no beta.
> 
> Enjoy.

A loud clanging coming from somewhere in her house woke Regina with a start. Bleary-eyed she focused on gathering flames in her palm, pulling on her housecoat as she stepped quietly into her hallway.

_“Shit. Fuck. Jesus. Who the hell still has one of these?”_

  
“Who’s there?” Regina called, trying to force her shaky voice into an icily even tone.

“R’gina?”

“Yes, that’s whose house you’ve made the mistake of breaking into—“

She rounded the corner, the flames in her hand reflected in her eyes.

“… Miss… Swan.”

The blonde looked up slowly, grinning sheepishly in response. She’d somehow managed to get her jacket caught on a coatrack, knocked a book off a table and knocked over Regina’s bucket umbrella stand.

“What, pray tell, are you doing in my home at,” she checked her watch. “Good god, it’s three in the morning?!”

“I was just gunna crash in the spare room,” Emma slurred, leaning on the doorway. Her hand slipped and she flopped to the floor, taking the coatrack with her. Regina winced as the smell of cheap whiskey wafted over her face, stinging her nostrils.

 _This is not how I intended to spend my night,_ Regina thought, sighing as she pushed her hair behind her ear, collecting what little composure this late hour allowed her.

“Emma, I gave you a spare key in case _Henry_ needed something. That wasn’t an invitation for you to just barge in here, drunk off your ass to spend the night in my home...”

Emma nodded, looking somewhat sober before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Attempting to get up, she fell yet again, her knees giving out. She sighed, hugging the coatrack, swaying drunkenly back and forth.

Regina shook her head.

Apparently under the heavy influence of alcohol, Emma Swan turned into a ten year old.

“Emma, go home.”

“D’ya really want me drivin’ like this, R’gina?”

… Point taken.

“Fine. But I’m waking you up _early_ tomorrow morning and you will return home then.”

“Thanks, ‘Gina.”

“It’s Regina.”

“’S what I said, right?”

“Perhaps we should get you some water before you sleep this off,” Regina sighed again, rolling her eyes. “I’d hate to be accused of murdering you in my own home when it seems you planned to kill yourself with alcohol poisoning.”

“Nooooo,” Emma chuckled, running her fingertips up and down the coatrack. “Jus forget stuff.”

“… I see.”

“You’re not gunna ask me what ‘m forgettin'?”

“I’d rather not.”

“C’mon ‘Gina. You gotta be curious.”

Regina leaned her hip on the banister and watched with a raised brow as Emma tried several times to get to her feet, using the coatrack like a strange, overlong cane.

_Well at least I’m losing sleep over something amusing…_

“Standing is hard,” Emma mumbled, looking down at her feet.

“Indeed.”

“Help.”

“Excuse me?”

“Help me. ’m drunk.”

“I’m aware of that, Miss Swan.”

“Emma.”

“Yes, that is your name.”

“No.”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“Noooo,” Emma whined. “You always call me ‘Missswan.’ Why don’ you ever call me Em-ma.”

“I….”

_It’s a fair question. Why don’t I have an answer…?!_

“I’m not sure.”

“I don’ call you ‘Miss Mills.’”

“It’d be ‘Mayor Mills.’”

“You’d like that, huh?”

“Would you rather I call you Sheriff?”

“Hmm. Think I like the sound of that,” Emma grinned toothily.

Were it not for the fact that Emma smelled like the floor of a bar, she'd look kind of... cute.

_Wait, what?_

“I beg your pardon?”

“I could get my handcuffs.”

Regina’s cheeks flared red and she was immediately grateful that it was still dark in the hallway, the only illumination coming from the moonlight streaming in the windows.

“Okay, _Sheriff Swan_. Would you like for me to get you some water? Or would you rather roll around on the floor in a drunken stupor?”

“Water. My mouth tastes like booze.”

Regina couldn’t help but chuckle as she turned toward her kitchen, fetching a glass and filling it at the sink. Feeling a presence behind her, she turned slowly, finding herself nearly pressed against a very drunk Emma Swan.

“Miss Swan what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“You smell nice.”

“I shower fairly often. You should try it.”

“Showering with you?”

“I’m sorry?” Regina’s voice shot up an octave. She tried to step backwards, mouth falling open as she bumped into her countertop. Nowhere to run.

… Was Emma _hitting on her?_

“You should be. Wearing that little robe thingy.”

Regina looked down at herself, her fingertips toying with the edge of her silky housecoat, the other hand gripping the glass tighter. It was never something she’d wear outside, of course, as it only fell to her mid-thigh. But she was decent.

“You’re drunk, Emma,” Regina reminded her, pressing the glass of water into Emma’s fumbling hands as she took a step to the side, sliding out from between Emma and the counter. She took a breath, trying to calm the quickened beat of her heart.

Why were her palms clammy?

“You’re pretty, Regina.”

“Just… Drink your water and try not to vomit on my rug,” Regina sighed, stepping around Emma to head back upstairs.

A firm hand grasped her wrist.

“Don’t go.”

Torn between yanking her hand away and the intriguing thought of what Emma might have to say, she shook Emma’s grip and turned toward her, crossing her arms over her chest.

Regina eyed the highly intoxicated blonde in front of her and sighed.

“Well?”

“Hook 'n I broke up.”

Regina cocked a brow and leaned against the doorframe.

“… You don’ care?”

“I’m not understanding what that has to do with me, Miss—Emma.”

Emma grinned and took several gulps of water.

“Well. I brokeup with _him_ ,” Emma slurred. Regina winced as Emma slammed the glass a little too hard onto her marble countertops.

“Sorry…”

“Congratulations.”

“I… Thank you?”

Regina shrugged.

“I suppose you’re welcome though I’m still not seeing your point.”

“’m single again.”

“Again, congratula—mmph…!”

Regina’s eyes fluttered shut as Emma hastily pressed their lips together. Her heart hammered in her chest, her breath leaving her lungs completely at the overwhelming sensation of _finally_ kissing Emma Swan. Emma’s hand cupped the back of her neck and she felt the gentle hum of a moan vibrate against her lips.

The bitter scent of whiskey and sweat stung her nostrils, her eyes flying open as she shoved Emma backwards.

… Conveniently forgetting Emma’s apparent lack of balance as the blonde crashed into the counter and promptly collapsed to the floor.

“ _Fuck_.”

“What the _hell_ was _that_?”

Emma groaned from the floor, cradling her hip in her hand.

“A kiss. Didn’t expect it t’ go like that…”

“What the… _fuck_ Emma?!” Regina hissed, leaning over the fallen blonde. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair disheveled. She looked nothing like the put-together Mayor of Storybrooke that everyone knew and… Well. Hated.

“That word sounds better when youuuu say it,” Emma grinned.

“I… I am talking to a three year old,” Regina mumbled, closing her eyes to keep from staring down at the woman who’d just… _kissed her_.

“Plus twennyfive.”

“I’m finding that to be fairly difficult to believe.”

Regina paced the floor, unable to meet Emma’s glassy eyes.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“Emma, you are _drunk_.”

“Uh… Yeah.”

“I just… Go to bed,” Regina huffed, nearly sprinting up the stairs on her way out.

Emma stared dumbly down at her legs.

“Well shit.”


	2. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Enough of you convinced me that I should continue this. I have a few ideas but I just wanted to write a little bit today and let you guys know that I now hope to keep writing this one. Updates may not come as quickly as this one, but I'll try to updated often.
> 
> Let me know what you all think!
> 
> Enjoy.

Emma groaned as the sound of her alarm pierced through the thick, dry-mouthed haze that seemed to hover over her, pulling her eyelids shut even tighter.

_What the fuck did I drink last night?_

She blinked slowly, squinting at the light that streamed through the nearby window.

_… Where the hell am I?_

She felt around blindly, keeping her eyes squeezed shut against the blindingly bright sun that pushed insistently against her eyelids, making everything a bleary red.

_What do I remember from last night…?_

_Well._

_Shit._

_Okay. What do I know now?_

Well she was still dressed from head to toe, though she was missing her left sock.

_That’s a start, I guess._

She cautiously peeked her eyes open, taking in the modest, elegant décor.

_Well, I’m not at home. Or at Hook’s place…_

Hook.

Something about Hook…

_Did we fight?_

She glanced around the room again, wincing at the pounding ache in her temples. Her stomach churned, acid building in her throat.

A tall glass of water and a bottle of aspirin sat on the bedside table.

Everything in the room felt achingly familiar but the cloudy smog of her hangover slowed her thoughts to the speed of her mother’s driving...

Rolling closer to the table, she reached for the bottle, uncapping it and dumping what was probably an alarming amount of aspirin into her hand, chasing it quickly with the full glass of water.

_If that kills me, at least I won’t die with this headache._

Feeling her stomach protest at the sudden flood of cool water, she shoved her head between her knees, groaning when the room spun.

After several minutes of deep breaths, the room seemed to stabilize. Sort of.

She stood slowly, feeling her knees shaking. Her stomach turned again.

_Okay. Time to figure out where the hell I am…_

Emma spun slowly, taking in the room again.

_Dark red, carpet._

_Black sheets._

_Clean but lush furniture and—_

_Oh shit._

There was no way in _hell_ that Emma was in the house (if you could call this _mansion_ a house) of none other than the Mayor of Storybrooke, Regina Mills.

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” Emma mumbled as she stumbled around, trying to find her shoes and her missing sock.

_Where is my jacket???_

She threw caution to the wind, nearly ran out of the room, leaving behind her sock and one of her shoes, praying the mayor had already left for the morning.

She knew she'd remember everything later but for now, she needed to be as far away as physically possible from whatever the hell she might've done last night.

Emma cursed as she tripped on the stairs, sprinting out toward the street.

She spared a glance over her shoulder back up at the house once she’d reached the sidewalk and saw the upstairs curtain slip closed.

_Fuck._

 

 

_LAST NIGHT_

 

Regina sat on the edge of her bed, staring down at her hands as they twisted in her lap.

_I… What the hell just happened?_

Regina ran through the moments in her mind, her hands moving to fiddle with the edge of her robe. Her cheeks and wrist burned where Emma’s hands were pressed to her skin and her stomach flipped at the memory of Emma’s lips briefly pressed to her own.

She wrinkled her nose at the recollection of the stink of sweat and whiskey, fingertips itching to reach out and create new memories of the feel of Emma’s—

_No._

Regina subconsciously rubbed her wrist where Emma had grabbed her. The touch was gentle but she’d felt it all the way down to her bones.

She’d wanted to stay.

_Why did I want to stay?_

_Was it just curiosity?_

_Did I just want to hear what she had to say?_

_… Did I want more than what she had to say?_

Shaking her head, Regina sighed, pulling her robe tighter around her body.

No, that couldn’t be it. I just wanted to know what could’ve possibly possessed her to come into my home at three in the morning...

… Right?

A sigh escaped her lips as she stood and went to her dresser, fetching a potion she’d kept for the nights when her mind didn’t seem to want to shut off and allow her some precious sleep.

There was no sense in running it through her mind twelve more times like she knew she would.

The silk sheets felt nice on her smooth legs as she slipped into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. She silently thanked whatever strange forces seemed to control this universe that Henry was with his grandparents…

Oh my god.

_Henry._

_I kissed Henry’s other mom._

Regina’s eyes flew open and she stared at the ceiling until a sleepy, potion-induced mist settled behind her eyes, drawing them shut.

 


	3. Of Texts and Missed Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to get this up. I've been working 40+ hours with the holidays and stuff and kind of just having a rough go of things at the moment. I know it's fairly short but I wanted to post it and say I haven't forgotten about this and plan to write more when I get another day off. Happy holidays, guys!
> 
> The lines indicate changes in perspective.
> 
> Enjoy!

To say that Regina woke up feeling carefree and well rested would be… well… a blatant fucking lie. Sure, she’d slept well enough (strictly the potion’s doing) but she still felt like she’d ran a mental marathon while her body lay still for eight hours.

She got up feeling sluggish, her mind still racing with the events of the night before.

Going through the motions of her morning routine, she practically dragged her feet through tasks, taking none of the usual thrill in making sure her hair was perfectly curled or her makeup immaculately applied.

Her active mind still dead-set on focusing completely on the town’s sheriff, Regina sighed, rubbing her temples.

_Just get to work. Then you’ll have a distraction._

Taking one last look in the mirror, checking her teeth for traces of lipstick, she sighed.

_This’ll have to do._

The mountains of paperwork to be read, filed, and signed were a godsend for Regina’s busy mind as she sat down at her desk.

She put on some quiet classical music and got to work, reading over a proposal for improvements to the town library and requests for funds and grants for different parts of Storybrooke.

After placing a sizeable stack of papers into her “finished” pile, the corner of a blue post-it note caught her attention.

She slid her hand under the papers, plucking the protruding paper from halfway down the stack.

She felt her heart hammering in her chest as her eyes scanned the words over and over again.

 

_Regina,_

_We should probably talk._

_Call me._

_Emma (Swan)_

Why she’d bothered to add her last name, Regina wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like there were hundreds of other Emmas in Storybrooke. Shaking her head, she placed the note in a drawer and briskly closed it, straightening up in her seat.

_Just get through the rest of your work._

She fiddled with the edge of the page she was reading.

_You can do this._

Her eyes started to blur, making the paragraph she was reading nothing but a squiggly, black and white blob.

_Just one…. More… Page…_

  
… With a groan, about twenty minutes later, Regina let out a heavy sigh and slumped back into her chair. Her hands hadn’t stopped shaking and she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

_What could she possibly want to talk about?_

_She was drunk and she slept in my house. That’s it…_

_…She also may have kissed me._

_But she was drunk. And it didn’t mean anything._

_To her._

_Wait._

_What?_

Regina glared at her phone on her desk. She locked and unlocked it several times. A few times, she’d even scrolled through her contacts to find Emma’s name.

_Come on, Regina._

_You’re an alternate universe queen for god’s sake._

Shaky fingers hovered over the touch screen as she delicately pressed her fingertip to the cold glass, selecting Emma’s name.

Calling Emma Swan…

She took a deep, steadying breath.

_Perhaps I should change that to Emma (Swan)._

 

* * *

Emma wrung her hands at her desk.

Storybrooke wasn’t exactly the most crime-ridden place she’d ever lived… To say the least.

Currently she was tasked with the harrowing challenge of babysitting a couple of recovering drunks that were held in the cell.

_Thrilling._

She groaned as one of them started to snore again, flipping her phone over.

_I’m just checking the time… That’s all._

She leapt out of her chair as her phone started to vibrate on her desk.

Incoming Call

Regina

_SHIT_

Her hands fumbled for the device, effectively flinging it across the room in her haste to answer it.

 

* * *

 

_“Hey this is Emma. I’m probably out saving Storybrooke! Or another world. Or something. Leave a message.”_

Regina snorted at the clearly sarcastic voicemail.

“Emma, it’s Regina Mills. I’m just returning your incredibly vague request for a phone call… I’d offer more of an explanation but I haven’t the slightest idea what you could possibly want. So. Call me?”

Regina cringed as she hung up.

_Smooth, Mayor Mills._

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw that it was time to head home though she desperately needed a drink.

_Perhaps a quick stop…_

She grabbed her coat and threw it on, heading out to her Mercedes.

The vehicle slowed as she pulled into the parking lot of The Rabbit Hole.

_Just a quick drink._

*   *    *   *   *   *  

Regina Mills was definitely not one to get drunk. And she certainly wasn’t one to get drunk in a _bar_.

Yet here she was, swaying slightly on the hard wooden stool, pounding back more whiskey. That was four. Or five. She wasn’t sure as everything started to take on a fuzzy, warm quality.

 _I should probably get home,_ she sighed, pulling a few crisp bills out of her wallet. She hastily slapped the money onto the bar, the heavy influence of the alcohol slowing her movements, making her clumsy.

Stumbling out toward the parking lot, she stood in front of her car for an inordinate amount of time.

 _There’s no way I can drive like this_ , Regina mentally groaned. Wishing she could have another drink, she started the long, teetering walk to her home.

 


	4. Broken Heels and Handcuffs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I know it's been a really long time since the last update and I apologize. My life and country have kind of decided to punch themselves in the face so it's been rough. Hopefully this gives people a bit of a break from the not so great stuff happening in the world right now.
> 
> I'm with you all. You're not alone.
> 
> Anyway, thank you to Olivia who beta'd for me! She's wonderful and amazing and I love her to absolute pieces.
> 
> Again, sorry it's been forever.
> 
> Enjoy and please review! Reviews keep me going.

_ Here we go,  _ Emma thought, driving up and down every. Single. Street. In the small town.  _  Another thrilling night in Storybrooke. _

 

Her irritation with her father grew with every turn she took in the cruiser. She’d been forced to work a double. Again.

 

_ Well, it’s not exactly David’s fault that he’s puking all over the place… _ she sighed.  _ At least I don’t have to clean it up. _

 

She drummed her thumbs on the steering wheel, thankful that the heat in the cruiser worked far better than the heat in her beat-up, old, yellow Beetle. With a hum, she turned, yet again, onto Main Street.

 

The roads were mostly empty at this hour with everyone having gone straight home after their jobs, as usual. The city seemed almost peaceful at times like this.

 

_ If it weren’t so damn boring… Just another night in paradise… Not a soul out of their house… Except maybe—Who the hell…? _

 

Emma squinted at the figure stumbling up the road toward the cruiser.

 

_ Is that--? No. There’s absolutely no way… _

 

The cruiser slowed to a near stop as Emma watched an incredibly intoxicated Regina Mills walk (if you could call her tipsy staggering “walking”) slowly forward, a look of deep concentration etched into her features.

 

With a wave of apprehension, Emma rolled down the window. The cold night wind pushed its way into the cruiser, making Emma’s teeth chatter.

 

“Regina.”

 

“Sheriff Swan,” Regina slurred through gritted teeth, continuing her march past the police cruiser.  _ Why did I decide that high heels would be a good choice in footwear today? _

 

Emma groaned and made a quick u-turn in the middle of the road, pulling up next to the  _ very _ inebriated mayor.

 

“Where is your car?”

 

“Are you asking me why I’m not driving at the moment? I’d have thought it was obvious. Unless the Storybrooke police force is now endorsing drunk driving. In which case, I’ll see to it that your funding be cut.”

 

How she’d maintained her vocabulary when she was barely able to walk, Emma wasn’t sure. She felt her heart race as she watched Regina, unsure if she felt fear for the woman’s safety or… something else.

 

“You know that isn’t what I mean. I just mean I’ve never had to lock up the mayor for public drunkness,” she chuckled. “Are you going to come quietly or will I have to cuff you?”

 

“I’m walking home, Sheriff Swan. Just leave me to it,” Regina growled, ignoring the way her stomach flipped at the thought of being handcuffed by the other woman. 

 

Regina’s heel caught in a crack in the pavement and with an ungraceful “Umph,” she was quickly brought to her hands and knees. Hissing at the stinging in her palms, Regina sat back on the sidewalk, groaning as she inspected the long run that had torn its way into her stockings.

 

“Oh shit!” Emma pulled the cruiser over and threw the door open, rushing to Regina’s side.

 

“Leave me be, Sheriff. I just need to get home,” Regina mumbled into her hands, rubbing her temples.  _ If only my eyes would focus and the ground would stop tilting… _

 

A strong hand wrapped around Regina’s arm, firmly but tenderly urging the woman to her feet. A deep blush colored Regina’s cheeks as she instinctively reached out and gripped the other woman’s shoulder.

 

_ Calm yourself, Regina. It’s a shoulder. _

 

_ An incredibly muscular, taut shoulder. _

 

_ An incredibly muscular taut shoulder I could just sink my teeth int-- _

 

“Now if you’ll excuse me I need to get ho—“

 

The world tipped sideways again as Regina swiftly discovered that the heel of her shoe had, in fact, snapped and broken.

 

The air in her lungs seemed to expand, catching in her throat at the feeling of arms wrapping around her waist, holding her, keeping her from falling for a second time. The world felt blurry and too warm, the sweet smell of vanilla and cinnamon making Regina’s head spin. The heady scent pulled Regina in until she bumped gently against Emma’s chest. Her eyes snapped open and she shifted away.

 

_ Get it together, Regina. _

 

“Let me drive you home,” Emma hummed.

 

Goosebumps broke out over Regina’s skin where Emma’s thumb rubbed back and forth against her arm. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed her body to regain a modicum of control and fight the urge to fall back against Emma’s chest and stay there, breathing her in.

 

_ Thank god I’m wearing a coat…,  _ Regina thought, self-consciously rubbing her arm through the thick, heavy fabric.

 

Emma gave Regina’s arm another gentle squeeze and released her, hovering her hands close in case the dangerous mix of alcohol and gravity conspired to drag the woman down for a third time.

 

“Regina?”

 

As if shaking herself from a dream, Regina’s clouded eyes seemed to clear, meeting Emma’s in the dim glow of the streetlights.

 

“Can I drive you home?”

 

“That won’t be necessary.”

 

“... Regina,” Emma sighed. “You’re drunk, one of your shoes is broken, and it’s like negative fifty degrees out. Just let me give you a freaking ride.”

 

_ Well the idea of a ride from Emma Swan certainly isn’t  _ unappealing _ \-- STOP. _

 

Regina shook her head again.

 

“I…”

 

“Seriously, don’t make me cuff you and throw you in a cell. I’ve already done that twice this week. And Leroy certainly didn’t come quietly...”

 

_ Neither would I... _

 

Heat flared in Regina’s cheeks and a mixture of embarrassment and warmth flooded her body.

 

Of course Emma Swan had to be the one to catch her on a night like this.

 

Where she certainly  _ wasn’t  _ piss-drunk, standing with one unbroken heel on the side of the road. 

 

And where she absolutely  _ wasn’t  _ drinking to clear her head of a sloppy, drunken kiss and a missed phone call that felt something akin to rejection.

 

Emma watched Regina weigh her options, looking down sadly at her broken high heel, her lower lip protruding slightly making the mayor look less like a queen and more...like a pouting child. Regina shivered, her teeth starting to chatter as the wind picked up.

 

“Come on. It’s freezing and I don’t know if you know this but it’s four blocks to your house,” Emma pleaded, rubbing the back of her neck.

 

Regina raised a brow in response.

 

“I’ve literally been driving up and down every street for two nights a week for the past two years. After a while you start to memorize the layout of the city. Plus it’s not like your house, if you can call it a house, is the most conspicuous place in Storybrooke.”

 

Regina chuckled and sighed.

 

“Now do I need to open up the back door and throw you in or--?”

 

“That won’t be necessary,” Regina hummed as she stepped toward the cruiser, all poise and queenly illusions gone as her broken shoe made her hobble forward.

 

Emma puffed her chest out in pride for a moment, feeling giddiness bubble up inside her.

 

The heat in the cruiser was very much welcome after stumbling through the wind.

 

Emma leaned back in her seat and hummed as the heat worked its way into her body, flexing her fingers on the steering wheel.

 

A cold hand covered the top of hers on the gearshift and Emma jumped.

 

“I-- I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to thank you,” Regina mumbled, pulling her hand away.

 

“No, it’s--” Emma sighed.

 

Warm, slender fingers grasped hers, Emma’s thumb coming to rest on her knuckles.

 

Unable to look away, Regina stared at their hands, wanting more than anything to intertwine their fingers and never let go…

 

Emma gave her hand a quick squeeze before letting go and turning her eyes to the road, ignoring the deep sinking disappointment filled her stomach when their hands parted.

 

“L-let’s get you home.”


	5. It’s Just Coffee… Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make it back to Regina's house and talk... Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> Sorry for the extremely long wait. I got a bit caught up in life and was honestly REALLY discouraged at the lack of feedback I got the last couple of chapters. But with the help of a couple friends of mine, I was able to write a bit more. These two need a happy ending, right?
> 
> All mistakes are my own. Enjoy.

 

The drive to Regina’s house was an eerily silent one. The oppressive lack of noise only broken when Emma cleared her throat or drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

 

She could feel Regina watching her from the corner of her eye; both women concentrating hard on not looking directly. Both silently praying the other would be the one to break the heinous lack of noise.

 

Regina still felt flushed, her hands shaking, fingertips itching to reach over and trace over Emma’s knuckles, needing to know what it felt like to interlock their fingers together.

 

The woman forced her eyes shut, closing her fists just as tight, feeling her blunt fingernails dig into her palms.

 

_ That’s enough, Regina. Get a grip. _

 

_ It’s just the alcohol... _

 

Emma looked over when she heard a sigh.

 

“Is… everything okay?”

 

She could feel the tension rolling off of Regina in waves from the tightness in her clenched jaw from the way her knuckles almost glowed white.

 

“S-sorry. I’m just… Drunk.”

 

It was a pathetic excuse and she knew it even as it exited her mouth. Her scrambled brain fumbled for something…  _ anything _ else to say to break the silence…

 

Emma chortled a bit and nodded, hands wringing over the steering wheel.

 

What was supposed to be a short drive turned out feeling more like an endless journey.

 

A  _ silent _ , endless journey.

 

Pulling into the driveway was like taking a breath after being held underwater.

 

Regina all but bolted from the car, heading straight for the front door. Her whole body felt too warm, eyes dry, burning slightly from the blasting heat in the cruiser.

 

She took several uneven steps toward the door before turning to realize Emma wasn’t following her.

 

“You’re… Not coming in?”

 

She felt the little balloon of hope in her chest start to deflate.

 

_ She didn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want to come in. Get the hint, Mills? _

 

Regina could see Emma’s brow furrowed in response as she stood in the open door of the police cruiser.

 

“I didn’t realize I’d been invited to join you.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Regina wrung her hands, her chest feeling awfully tight; the painful sting of rejection settling in her stomach once again.

 

“I can come in if you want. You just… Didn’t really seem like you were in the mood for company,” Emma offered, shrugging as she thumped her fingertips on the roof of the car.

 

“I… I’d offer you to come in for a drink but… well,” she gestured to the broken heel in her hand.

 

Emma laughed.

 

“Yeah, I think you’ve had enough. I could go for some coffee? If you want...”

 

“That I can do,” Regina nodded, starting to turn toward her house, silently praying that Emma would follow. 

 

The sound of the the other woman’s heavy boots hitting the pavement behind her was a constant reassurance as she walked up the steps.

 

She could almost feel Emma’s breaths from several feet away, her brain starting to short-circuit in the woman’s presence. 

 

Her hands fumbled with her keys, reminding her that she wasn’t entirely sober.

 

She pushed the door open, tossing her shoes in the hall, haphazardly hanging up her coat on the coat rack.

 

The memory of Emma nearly drunkenly tackling the thing to the ground made her chuckle.

 

Emma’s boots thudded solidly on the wood floors where they were dropped next to Regina’s broken high-heel.

 

Emma couldn’t remember the last time she saw Regina out of heeled shoes, grinning at the fact that the woman now appeared slightly shorter than her. 

 

She watched silently as the other woman scooped coffee grinds into the machine, carefully filling it with water.

 

Her eyes trailed up from Regina’s slightly torn stockings to hem of her the form-fitting black dress. Taking a small pause, her gaze found its way upwards, following the curve of the woman’s hips and back...

 

Emma flushed and forced her gaze to her socks, frowning at her big-toe peeking through the worn white cotton.

 

Creepily checking out an intoxicated mayor wasn’t exactly how she expected to spend her evening. Which isn’t to say that she hadn’t done it before.

 

Emma wasn’t sure anyone in the town, with functioning eyes hadn’t checked out the mayor at  _ least _ once.

 

_ Cut it out, Swan. Quit being such a creep. She’s drunk, remember? _

 

Emma shook her head, trying to force it clear of thoughts of her hands trailing the same path her eyes had moments ago…

 

Regina turned to see Emma staring fixedly at her toes.

 

She cleared her throat, biting her lip to keep from smiling as Emma’s startled gaze quickly shot up to meet hers.

 

“Coffee?”

 

“Right,” Emma mumbled, following Regina into the kitchen. She mentally cursed herself as she couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting, her whole body electric with the need to just do  _ something _ . She sat down on her hands to keep her fingers from drumming on every available surface, cursing them as they itched to touch more than countertops.

 

“Cream and sugar?”

 

Emma nodded, quietly dumping what Regina believed to be a truly obscene amount of sugar into her mug.

 

“... Would you like some coffee with your sugar?”

 

Emma chuckled.

 

“It’s too bitter without it.”

 

“Alright, Miss Swan. Enjoy your diabetes in a cup,” Regina hummed, sipping her black coffee, praying it would sober up her less than innocent thoughts.

 

Emma shrugged and drank it down, wincing as she burned her tongue.

 

Regina raised a brow.

 

“Eager to finish your drink?”

 

“N-No. Not at all.”

 

_ I just need something to do with my hands or I’ll-- COOL IT, SWAN. _

 

Regina hummed, not entirely convinced. Her cheeks were warm, hands wrapped just a bit too tightly around her mug of coffee as she leaned against her counter, observing the other woman.

 

_ How does she seem so calm and relaxed when just a minute ago she was stumbling up the street drunk? _

 

_ God, why is she perfect? _

 

_ Wait. What? _

 

Emma squeezed her eyes shut.

 

“Did you burn your tongue that badly?”

 

“Sorry. No. I just… I’m...”

 

“... Yes?”

 

“Distracted,” Emma admitted, willing her tingling tongue to  _ stop fucking moving _ .

 

“You can talk to me, Emma. I know we’re not really friends, but I’m not exactly the evil queen anymore.”

 

Emma grinned and Regina felt her knees go weak, that idiotic fluttery feeling back full-force.

 

“You’re not. And we’re friends. Kind of. When you’re not trying to kill me.”

 

“I think we can both agree that I haven’t made an attempt on your life in quite a while.”

 

Emma seemed to mull it over for a moment. Regina immediately frowned, her mouth agape.

 

Emma broke into a fit of laughter, the sound warming Regina more than the coffee ever could.

 

“You haven’t, I’ll agree.”

 

Regina smiled sheepishly, looking down at her cup of coffee.

 

Silence fell over the two women as they sipped from their mugs.

 

“I… should get going,” Emma admitted, pushing the cup away as she stood up. “I’m supposed to be on patrol.”

 

_ I could give you the night off… _

 

“I… Understand,” Regina swallowed thickly.

 

Emma nodded and went to put on her boots.

 

Regina stood in the doorway, pretending she wasn’t at all admiring the view of the sheriff bent over to tie her bootlaces.

 

Emma turned to see Regina looking… flustered?

 

“I’ll let you out,” Regina choked out, pushing past the woman to the front door.

 

She turned, her hand resting on the doorknob. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to speak.

 

Emma took a step forward, her hand resting on the door.

 

The entryway suddenly felt much warmer as Emma’s proximity to Regina decreased.

 

Emma met her eyes as her gaze slowly fell to Emma’s lips, taking little notice of the warm, pink flush in her cheeks.

 

In a moment, Regina pushed forward, hands gripping the sides of Emma’s leather jacket as she crashed her lips firmly to Emma’s.

 

She felt Emma gasp against her mouth, her whole body stiffening. Regina’s grip faltered as she felt shame and fear creep its way up her spine before Emma’s warm hands cupped the sides of her face.

 

Their lips moved together and Regina felt the flutter in her chest turn to a rush of warmth, one hand tentatively sliding to the side of Emma’s neck and into her hair.

 

The first brush of Emma’s tongue against her lips made her shiver, her knees going weak.

 

Their breaths mingled, Regina noting the sweetness on Emma’s tongue. She smiled.

 

Almost as suddenly as she’d been kissed, Emma took a step back, breaking the kiss with an abruptness that once again pushed fear to the forefront of Regina’s mind.

 

_ Oh god I’ve ruined everything… _

 

“Regina… You’re drunk,” Emma breathed, taking another step back, shoving her fists in her pockets to keep from grabbing the other woman and kissing her over and over again, ready and willing to drown in the feeling of her lips…

 

“I… Understand,” Regina mumbled, turning to mask the pain that crossed her features.

 

_ Rejection. That’s what this is. She’s turning you down. _

 

“I. No, Regina it’s not… Look. We need to talk about this. I don’t want this to just be…”

 

“Like last time?”

 

“... Last time?” Emma squeaked.

 

“When you drunkenly kissed me in my kitchen,” Regina hummed, feeling her pain quickly turn to anger as she felt the need clawing at her stomach to lash out.

 

Pieces of memories flashed across Emma’s mind. 

 

_ Stumbling into the entryway… _

 

_ Knocking over nearly everything in her path… _

 

_ Falling on her ass... _

 

_ Pushing Regina against her counter and-- _

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“We can just pretend this never happened, sheriff Swan. And you can be merrily on your way,” Regina straightened her spine and opened the door.

 

“Regina that’s not what I--”

 

“I understand that you have no intention of--”

 

“Regina--”

 

“-- engaging in such activities with mmpf--”

 

The mayor was quickly cut off by Emma’s lips once again meeting her own. She felt her body tingle all the way to her toes and she fought the urge to melt back into Emma.

 

Regina’s firm hand against her chest was enough to tell Emma to pull back.

 

“I… I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

 

“Regina, I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Emma admitted, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

 

“I… Oh.”

 

“I’m not telling you no. I’m not telling you I don’t want this because god,” Emma ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “Can we talk about this? Tomorrow? Preferably when neither of us is drunk?”

 

“I believe we should,” Regina agreed, completely unable to meet the intensity of Emma’s gaze.

 

Emma sighed and shook her head, stepping again into Regina’s space. She pressed her forehead to Regina’s, gently resting her hands on the woman’s waist.

 

“Please don’t overthink this. Just get some rest tonight, okay?”

 

Regina fell silent at the intimate gesture, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

 

“Will you look at me?”

 

Regina felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Overwhelmed by the whirlwind of feelings she’d run through in the past few minutes, she forced down what she felt and lifted her gaze to meet Emma’s.

 

The corners of the other woman’s eyes crinkled as she smiled and Regina felt her stomach flip.

 

“I don’t want to do this with even the possibility that you may not remember it. Tomorrow, yeah?”

 

Regina nodded, insecurity digging its claws into her insides, anxiety right on its tail.

 

“Regina?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Would you mind if I kissed you goodnight?”

 

The heavens opening up with a hallelujah chorus could not have even come close to matching the feeling that swelled in Regina’s chest.

 

“If you’d like.”

 

Emma grinned.

 

“I would. A lot.”

 

“Then I suppose.”

 

Emma nodded, hand reverently cupping Regina’s cheek as she tilted her head, meeting Regina’s lips in an entirely unhurried kiss.

 

Tears fell down Regina’s cheeks at the pure adoration she felt in the other woman’s touch. Emma’s thumbs gently wiping them away.

 

“Please don’t cry. Tomorrow. I promise,” Emma hummed, pressing her lips to Regina’s forehead.

 

“Tomorrow,” Regina echoed.

 

She couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach as she watched Emma get back into the cruiser.

 

But she felt a bit of hope.

 

“Tomorrow,” she repeated to herself as she watched the lights of the police cruiser disappear down the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think. Even if it's just a word or two. Reviews mean everything to me.


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